


The Whittled Figure

by Blacksheep28



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, Fantasy, Gen, Magic, carving, faery, fairy tale, fey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacksheep28/pseuds/Blacksheep28
Summary: She sits in the marketplace and whittles away.





	The Whittled Figure

She hummed to herself quietly as she sat at the fountain in the marketplace. It was bustling as always, various trades of goods and magical items. She still was delightfully surprised every time she saw magic work. It was perfectly logical. She was in a magical world now, along with her loyal pets. Pets that she was beginning to suspect were more than they had first appeared to be. She hoped the wonder would never fade. There was something so special about the awe and delight that filled her when she found something new. Seeing dragons soar through the air, chasing after fey in the forest, watching someone turn fire into a harmless stream of colorful bubbles. She never wanted to lose that breathlessness.

At the moment she had a tune stuck in her head from her latest trip into the forest. She never knew quite what her visits there would be like. Sometimes it felt like she was walking through a normal forest. A particularly vibrant and lovely one, with the trees themselves seeming to shimmer and move with life, but still one that she could easily have walked within in her old world. Other times faeries would come out and she would find herself falling prey to their whims. It was never malicious, but she certainly had fallen for plenty of pranks and been left wondering what she had been thinking trying to match wits with the little devils.  
Her hand moved slowly over the piece of wood in her hands, pocketknife occasionally flicking in here and there as she marked the rhythm of the tune. The fey knew their music well, and while she hadn't wandered directly after the song, knowing that she could lose days doing so, it had gotten well and stuck in her head. Almost as if it had a life of her own. Even above the noise of the market she could hear it rise and fall as if it was still pulling on her. Half afraid she might actually start wandering if she moved she had settled down here and started working over a scrap stick that she'd picked up.

Her dog whined and looked up at her. She briefly reached over and patted his head before returning to the stick. She could almost feel what the tune was now. Perhaps if she could just follow it to the end she would be able to escape from it. Down, up, a slowly rising crest, and a playful dip there. She smoothed her hand over her work and pushed back a curl from her face. She was almost done, and then she could move.

The haunting melody finally seemed to draw to a close. She sighed. It was so beautiful. She almost could have cried with it. It was good that it was over though. She was in the end only human, and some things just weren't meant to be contained. She looked down at the stick she'd been whittling and blinked in surprise. In her hand was an almost perfect bird captured her flight. This certainly wasn't something that she was capable of making normally. Brushing her hand over it she could almost feel its feathers.

Well. It seemed she had a gift from the forest after all.


End file.
